I had dreamed of a honeymoon in Switzerland and Venice, ensconced in majestic chateaus; instead, we went on a road/ camping trip where I nearly had my nose freeze off my face while camping at the Grand Canyon because the ranger had promised temps of 20 F, which went down to 5🤒
I have dreams of going bicycling in an Irish village, breathing in the fresh air while surrounded by lush green foliage. Instead, I have ridden my bicycle a grand total of ONE time, and nearly fell off three times, sealing its fate of collecting dust in my garage for the last several years. 🙄
The Europhile that I am, I keep hoping that one of these days we will meander through the countryside, the warm summer breeze playing with our hair, while our worries are parked along the embankment. Instead, life is a blur of work, kids, work, errands, kids, work, duties & responsibilities. 🤕
But then, I turn a corner from my home as I walk my son to school and come upon this.
I feel as though I’m at the foothills of the Swiss Alps, the crisp air consumed with the petrichor of a post-rain morning, and I am transported to my memories of an English countryside, where little seems to distract me from the unison of absorbing the solitude of a passing scene.
The simple joy of gratitude begins to erase the regrets for what I haven’t done, because in so many ways I’ve done so much more.
(c) mh. 2020